Page 5 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva (Yezhov Bratva #8)

“You’re much more of a maniac than I imagined,” Rurik said, watching me like he’d just discovered a layer to me he didn’t know existed.

“Am I? It must run in the family,” I answered coldly. “At least I wasn’t the one fucking a whore on my wedding night while my wife was outside the door listening.”

There was a flicker of emotion in his eyes. There’d been more flickers of emotions in his eyes since Yulia died than I’d ever seen him show his entire life. Whatever that was, she was dead, and it was too late to show it.

He ignored my jab. “The girl hates you already.”

I nodded. “I know. That’s why I’m keeping my distance from her.”

He huffed and shook his head. “Sure, you are. Fucking maniac.” Rising to his feet, he sauntered out of my office and closed the door behind him

I’d kept my distance from Zoella since the night our engagement was announced. She’d been in shock and refused to accept it. I’d given her space to come to terms with it.

But I hadn’t stayed away completely.

I had my eyes on her around the clock, observing, watching every move she made throughout the day.

I was watching her from within black cars parked discreetly down the street, from the security feed I had installed outside the Carter estate, and my men, who secretly tracked her wherever she was going.

I lied to myself and said that it was for her safety, but I knew it was something more. My obsession with her was growing a little more intensely each day.

But that lie was my cover with Damien when he raised an eyebrow at the frequency of the reports. That’s what I said to Isaak when he wondered why my men were being dispatched to tail around a twenty-one-year-old woman who barely left the house.

I’d given her enough time to accept what she couldn’t change, but the distance hadn’t made much of a difference from what I could see.

She fought like a wild animal contained in a glass cage.

I saw it occur day by day—her rage spreading like a storm just below the surface.

She barely spoke with her parents. And when she did, her voice was cutting enough to slice blood. The way she glided from room to room, stiff, guarded, shoulders drawn up tight as if ready to strike, spoke the volumes I needed to hear.

She hated me.

Good.

Hate was fine. It was a foundation. A fire that could be stoked. Hate was passion with an uglier face.

Love could be performed. But hate? Hate was real.

Every time I was mentioned, she winced, changed the subject, and left the room, according to what my men reported back.

Even when she had no idea no one was watching and she was sitting alone on the balcony outside her room with her hair unwashed and her eyes puffy from crying, she still looked as if she’d sooner burn herself alive than wear my ring.

I liked that. I respected it, even. But it did not change the fact that she would belong to me soon enough. And every ounce of that flame? I’d own it.

Tame it and mold it into something else.

***

It had been a week since the engagement was announced when a text came in from one of my men.

Dimitri: She yelled at her dad again. Wants to break out. Do we ramp up surveillance?

I pressed the reply button with a single word. No.

Let her have freedom a bit longer. I wanted her to believe she had games to play.

The more she resisted, the sweeter it would be the moment when she realized that defiance brought her nearer to me.

I sat in my office in Yezhov’s estate, the steam from the hot cup of coffee on my desk burning softly beside me as I went through the messages on my phone.

Zoella’s face flashed on the screen before me. It was a security video, dated twenty minutes earlier.

She was pacing back and forth, alone in the drawing room with her hair packed in a neat bun and her arms folded.

I could make out her clenched jaw. She was something, this one. Defiance in each line of her body. A piece of me—the cold, buried part that had kept me alive this long—wanted to break it. Shatter the pride out of her and crush that fire until she bent to my will.

But the part of me that burned hotter wanted something else, and it wasn’t her obedience or her silence or even her submission. I wanted something more than that. Something more intense than control over her, and I was going to get it. It was only a matter of when.

Blake requested that we give her time to come to her senses, but that was the problem; I didn’t have time to waste.

To hasten things up, I played a little game behind the scenes.

Deals he thought were ironclad began to slip through his fingers.

One of his suppliers dropped out without warning. No explanation, only nothing. A bank he had dealt with for years suddenly froze his accounts. City permits vanished from the system.

I didn’t have to intimidate him. I only had to remove a few screws, whisper in some ears, and let the system rot from the inside out.

Blake Carter was a proud man, but even pride would shatter when the walls began to crack.

He left a message two nights ago. Short as it was, it carried enough desperation for me to know he wasn’t going to back out regardless of what Zoella wanted.

Blake Carter: Please don’t damage the business. We’re cooperating.

I didn’t respond. He didn’t deserve words.

This wasn’t cooperation. This was obedience. This was loyalty. This was ensuring no one else dared to test my control. Not even allies.

Especially not allies.

Yet, for all the coercion, for all the pawns moving perfectly into place, I couldn’t help but think of her—Zoella. I reminded myself it was all about business. The wedding. The timing. The appearances.

But that wasn’t true anymore. It hadn’t been true since I proposed the marriage and we met for the engagement dinner.

My desire for her only burned brighter since that night she stood in front of that restaurant, fire blazing in her eyes, voice shaking with rage and betrayal, calling me a monster to my face.

She didn’t flinch once, not even when I was standing so dangerously close to her that I could hear the pounding of her chest, and I could see the way fear bled into her eyes.

Even when her parents trembled in my presence. Even when she realized there was no escape.

She didn’t back down.

Fuck, this wasn’t just an obsession. I was becoming intoxicated thinking of her and the way her lips curled when she spoke to me. The way her breasts heaved and deflated like she was holding back every scream. The way her fingers bunched up like she was made to tear through the world I built.

She was all cutting edges and fire, and I yearned to burn.

I reminded myself it was control I wanted, over her, over the Carters, over every word that fell from her lips. But it was something deeper and harder to reach that I needed.

The harder she defied me, the more of her I wanted.

This was no longer politics; it was personal.

Even prior to Yulia’s death. Even prior to the commencement of this game, she’d been that single piece I could never quite control, never touch, never possess.

Now I could.

And soon I would.

***

Evening came with the distant rumble of LA traffic beyond my window and the muted clinking of crystal from the parlor two floors below.

I’d just signed off on a restructuring proposal. It was a quiet acquisition Blake Carter would discover next week, and I’d just shut down my computer when a knock came on the door.

Two short raps. My men knew better than to interrupt my evening unless it was something important.

I didn’t look up. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Kiril stepped in. He was usually composed. But there was a stiffness in his posture that set me on edge.

I leaned back in my seat and corked my brow. “What is it?”

“It’s the girl.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “She’s gone.”

I blinked once. Slowly. “Gone?”

“She left the Carter estate two hours ago. Snuck past staff through the back kitchen door. We got it late, as the cameras were disabled.”

I stood up.

Something in me snapped tight, like a wire pulled too tight. “How?”

There were men stationed right outside the estate. How the hell did they let one girl slip through them? Whatever excuse they had, it had better be worth it.

He bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Boss. The men weren’t expecting her to slip out using the back door.” He raised his head. “We’re canvassing the area. So far, we’ve not found anything solid. We’ve tracked her phone, but she turned it off.”

My jaw tightened, and for the first time, I could feel my control cracking.

Of course, she ran, and she’d waited until the semblance of control lulled everyone into believing she was a caged mouse; then she made her move.

It was brazen. Brash. Incendiary. I’d predicted this move, but what I hadn’t predicted was how smoothly she would be able to maneuver my men.

And yet, below the storm raging in my chest, something sharp twisted—not rage. Not terror.

Possession.

She could run all she wanted; she could reach the end of the world, but she was never going to be able to escape me. That was a fact I didn’t think she’d realized yet.

I was going to turn the entire world upside down to find her if that was what it would take.

My mask cracked open just far enough to show steel beneath, and my voice dropped into a lethal calm. “Find her.”